


You get my dad back Right Now Geralt!

by Newagenewbarricade



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon-Typical Violence, Episode Fix-It: s01e06 Rare Species, Father-Daughter Relationship, Gen, Geralt learns to Use His Words, Jaskier is a good dad!, Kidnapping, M/M, POV Multiple, Post-Season/Series 01, Sort of..., Threats of Violence, and so is Geralt!, lots of father daughter time!
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-25
Updated: 2020-02-20
Packaged: 2021-02-27 15:42:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,880
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22399555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Newagenewbarricade/pseuds/Newagenewbarricade
Summary: Geralt is enlisted to rescue Jaskier by none other than the bard’s daughter. After reuniting with the girl Geralt starts to see the after effects of what he did on the mountain that day. He hopes once Jaskier has been rescued he will be able to reconcile with his old friend.Here’s hoping Jaskier is still alive for him to make amends to
Relationships: Cirilla Fiona Elen Riannon & Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 17
Kudos: 149





	1. Like a Weed

**Author's Note:**

> The first few chapters are a bit on the short side but fear not! I will ramble once we're in the swing of things!

It was about mid-morning when Geralt and Ciri made their way out of the inn. Geralt’s most recent contract had paid well, so he took a rare day of rest for Ciri’s sake. Reprieves, no matter how short they were, however, always came to an end. Geralt had just gotten Roach from her stable and the little group was preparing to depart. Geralt paused mid-mount when he heard a young voice calling his name,

“Geralt! Geralt of Rivia!”

He glanced at Ciri, who if her confused face was anything to go by, didn’t have the faintest idea who was shouting for him either,

“What do you mean  _ you don’t know? _ He’s six feet tall, white hair, he’s got cat eyes, he’s covered in scars and did I mention  _ he’s Geralt of fucking Rivia _ ?” The voice sounded about as irritated as it did afraid,

“Where are you? Geralt! Please, I need you, Geralt!” The panicked voice was growing closer and soon Geralt saw and recognized the young girl yelling his name in desperation. She collapsed on the ground in front of him, staring up at him with haunted owlish eyes.

It was Daffodil, Jaskier’s daughter.

He hadn’t seen her since the beginning of the quest for the dragon. Jaskier had left his coin purse with her and said if he didn’t come back Geralt would take care of her. Geralt had not actually been  _ asked  _ about that arrangement beforehand but seeing as Jaskier didn’t die it hadn’t really come up. He would have taken care of the girl of course, but he still would have liked to be consulted before becoming responsible for  _ another  _ child. But, obviously, Jaskier did not die. Which had led Geralt to believe all was well with the girl. Or at least it  _ was _ .

Daffodil was panting heavily, her hands resting on her thighs as she pulled herself off the ground. Her blue doublet and leggings marked her as a bard, the peacock feather in her peasant cap marked her as Jaskier’s daughter near immediately. Her hair was the color and texture of withered grass, there was dirt and blood on her face, clear evidence of a struggle. From a cursory glance at least, she didn’t seem too badly injured. That was  _ something _ ,

“I’m- I’m so glad I found you,” she began, “I- I heard you were leaving so I, I knew I had to get here as fast as I could!” 

“What’s going  _ on _ Daffodil?” Geralt pressed sternly. It seemed that the girl had inherited more than her father’s eyes and fashion sense, unfortunately.

“It’s my father, Jaskier! He’s been kidnapped, they- I barely got away please!” She grabbed his arm with surprising force, 

“You  _ have _ to help me get him back.” There was a wild desperation in her that Geralt had never expected to see in the young girl’s eyes. Especially not in regards to her father. Daffodil apparently took this silence as rejection and tightened her grip. Her nails dug into Geralt’s wrists, it didn’t hurt his mutated body but he could tell if he was human it would definitely be uncomfortable. The girl stomped her foot, grimacing at the Witcher,

“ _ You _ broke my father’s heart!  _ You’re _ the reason they took him in the first place! I think this is the least you could do for your  _ best friend,  _ don't you think, Geralt?” She tugged his arm.

Geralt was thrown by the “ _ you broke his heart” _ bit but schooled his expression into one of practiced stoicism,

“Of course I will.” He glanced at Ciri who was staring at Daffodil with awe,

“Looks like we have a bard to save, don’t we, pup?”

Daffodil let go of Geralt’s wrists and let out a relieved sigh. She looked up at Geralt, started crying, and threw her arms around him,

“Thank you thank you! I knew, I just  _ knew  _ you would help us!”

“Alright Daff, now go back to the beginning. What happened to your father, and don’t leave anything out.”

He should have known better than to say that to a bard.


	2. Plucked the Buttercup

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We discover just what separated our bard from his daughter.

Jaskier had expected traveling with a young girl to be a different kind of trouble than he was used to. It seemed to alleviate some of his usual issues only to replace them with new ones. Angry spouses and lovers were less likely to try and beat him if he had a child with him, he also had less time for his eyes or heart to wander as of late. However, he rediscovered that men were disgusting pigs, especially when drunk and around a seemingly defenseless young girl. Daffodil would probably try and stab him in the foot again if he called her that to her face, but no matter the maturity she may or may not possess, thirteen was not a woman.

Complications aside, Jaskier didn’t regret having Daffodil with him for a second. She was a capable girl and truly delightful company. The two of them would often sing and play together on the road. And no matter her protests to the contrary, Jaskier could tell she was happy to have him around. Remarkably similar to another pale-haired person he loved. Despite being  _ his  _ daughter, Daffodil did have a surprising amount of things in common with their former companion. 

The two of them had just finished a fairly successful performance. Daffodil counting the coins with a soft hum as Jaskier led the two of them out of town. With two bards, one of whom was a teenager, there was never silence in their travels. Daffodil was singing a few new lines under her breath while Jaskier experimented with new chords. They were both caught completely off guard when the bandits hit them. One man grabbed Jaskier and pulled his arms behind his back while another man kicked him in the gut. Meanwhile, another man went to stab Daffodil but she managed to evade it, in frustration he punched her in the temple,  _ hard _ . She was staggering as she saw the men holding her father captive,

“Please, I’ll give you whatever coin you want! We don’t want any trouble just don’t hurt-” he was cut off with an uppercut,

“Where is the Witcher?” The man who seemed to be the leader demanded.

“Wha- I, I don’t know.” Jaskier ran his tongue over his split lip and spat on the ground,

“Even, even if I did I wouldn’t tell you.”

The man near Daffodil grabbed her, holding a knife to her throat, Daffodil tried her best to keep still as the cold metal pressed into her windpipe,

“Maybe  _ this _ will motivate you.” The leader gestured.

Jaskier tried to free himself, reaching for Daffodil, “Don’t! She, she’s just an apprentice leave her out of this.” He was speaking directly to her. She knew that look in his eye, and she knew what she had to do.

“Would’ve thought you liked them a bit older.” The man holding Daffodil remarked. Daffodil gagged at the insinuation. She grabbed her attacker by the cock and twisted as hard as she could. The man’s grip loosened as he yelled out in pain. Daffodil slipped out of his hold and pulled her dagger from her boot, her knuckles white with fear.

“Run!” Jaskier shouted. Daffodil wanted to stay behind, her heart was screaming at her to fight for her family, the  _ only  _ family she had. But she was no fool, she knew the odds, she was a stringy girl with a dagger up against five grown and armed men. So run she did, and she knew exactly who she was running  _ to _ .

Geralt of Rivia

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Timeline jumping??? In witcher (tv) fic??? It’s exactly as likely as you think tbh  
> I have several chapters of this already done so updates will be fairly regular for a bit!


	3. Daffodil Fields

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Geralt begins tracking the missing bard. Daffodil tries to keep her chin up, with mixed success.

Geralt did his best to calm the girl’s hysterics. But she was, unfortunately, just as prone to fits of intense emotion as her father. Geralt had a hand on each side of her head,

“Daffodil, songbird I- I need you to calm down.”

At the nickname, Daffodil cried even harder.  _ Shit, _ Geralt thought, this wasn’t helping the situation. He stroked her hair and looked at her softly like he did when Ciri had her night terrors,

“Daffodil, you’re safe now. I’m not going to let anything happen to you, okay?”

Daffodil sniffled a bit and eventually nodded. Roach nuzzled the girl, coaxing a small laugh from her,

“I missed you too Roach.” She said as she stroked the horse’s soft muzzle.

“Daff, do you think you can take us to where you were attacked?” 

Daffodil pressed a kiss to Roach’s face and turned her attention toward Geralt,

“Yeah, I can get you there.”

Geralt nodded, getting onto Roach, and then helping Daffodil and Ciri on. Daffodil was in the front for the best navigation. They rode out of town and for some time after that. Once three hours had passed with Daffodil still saying they weren’t close enough yet Geralt realized just how far and how fast this girl must have run to get to them.

“Are you a child of surprise too?” Ciri asked, finally breaking the tense silence aside from Roach’s hoof falls. 

“In a sense, Jaskier didn’t know about me until about,” she tapped her chin, “Geralt was it ten months ago or…”

“Yes, ten months.” He said.

“Ten months ago, my father or well, my mom’s husband figured out I’m not his and had me kicked out. Mom told me who my  _ real  _ dad was and I wanted to beat him. Not  _ physically  _ mind you, I just wanted to be a better bard than him. I was alone for a while, then I found them in a tavern I was performing at...” Daffodil tensed, “Turn right here, we’re not far now.” She said.

“Geralt talked me into traveling with Jaskier and well, the rest is history.”

“You are forgetting the part where you tried to stab him.” Geralt said fondly.

“I wasn’t  _ actually  _ trying, I just wanted to scare him and you know how easy  _ that  _ is!”

“Startle, your father is easy to  _ startle _ . I have never known someone as brave as your father in all my years.” Geralt surprised himself with the sincerity in his voice. If the silence that followed was anything to go by, he wasn’t the only one surprised by his comment.

After another fifteen minutes or so Daffodil told them to stop,

“This is it. I’m sure.”

When they arrived at the site it was clear there had been a struggle, scuff marks in the dirt and a few specks of blood. Daffodil pointed to a small puddle,

“That’s mine. I- I don’t know about the rest.” She trailed off.

Geralt knelt in the dirt, trying to see if he could identify any of the scents present aside from Jaskier and Daffodil. He smelled salted fish and mud, but that wasn’t going to give him an identity. He sighed and rose up turning to the two girls behind him. Daffodil held onto Ciri’s cloak like a lifeline.

“I can follow this scent, it’s a start at least.” He said.

“And the blood?” She knew her father had a split lip but this seemed like more than what a wound that superficial should produce.

“It’s not enough to even knock a man out. Your father is hurt but alive, I know it.”

Daffodil bit her quivering lip and nodded softly. Geralt hated how much she resembled her father when she was upset. The young girl was far too similar to her father for her own good. He gave her a comforting pat on the shoulder, or at least he  _ hoped  _ it was comforting. He mounted Roach and helped both the girls up as well. He gave Roach an apologetic pat, knowing this was more than she preferred to carry. They rode on till they reached a small village. It was nearing nightfall and Geralt knew the girls needed rest, and Daffodil needed a safer place than the woods right now. He brought Roach to the stables and took the girls to what appeared to be the only Inn in town.

The space was warm and far more comforting than most places that Geralt usually stayed at. A plump woman with slightly greying hair and a crooked smile was washing a tankard as he came in,

“Hello there love, the name’s Bernarda. How can I help you, sir?” She asked jovially, either not noticing or not caring that he was a Witcher. Her gaze flicked to the girls and back to Geralt as he spoke,

“I need a room for me and my uh, my daughters,” He glanced over his shoulder, Daffodil was sweaty, covered in dust and blood, “and could I have a bath drawn for them as well?”

“Of course sir, the kids are gonna have to bunk up but I get the feeling twins are used to that sort of thing, right?” Bernarda sent Geralt the empathetic smile of someone who also knew the struggles of traveling with a young family as she placed the key in Geralt’s palm.

“Oh yes um, they are.” Geralt hoped it didn’t come out as awkward and jilted as it sounded in his mouth. They went up the stairs and entered their room. Geralt was impressed to see it had a privacy screen in front of the washbasin. He motioned to it and looked at Daffodil,

“I thought you might want to get cleaned up a bit.”

Daffodil nodded, “Yes I would uh, thank you, Geralt.”

Geralt nodded curtly. Once Daffodil vanished behind the privacy screen Geralt quickly started getting changed for the night. He had traveled with the girl before, and he has changed in front of Ciri but something about changing around Daffodil without her father present made Geralt’s skin crawl.

Daffodil sighed as she lowered herself into the bath, her sore feet and legs crying in relief at the warmth. She briefly thought about the bottle of orange bath oil that her father had purchased after their last show. She then scolded herself, how could she think of something as trivial as that when her father may well be  _ dead _ . She scrubbed her skin raw like if she was harsh enough on the dirt on her she would somehow get her father back sooner. She glared as she scraped the filth from her body  _ This is your fault _ her mind mocked her,  _ If you hadn’t been so noisy they would’ve missed you completely.  _

“Shut up.” She whispered to herself. 

_ If you hadn’t driven Geralt away this never would have happened. No wonder no one wants you.  _ Daffodil let out a cry of frustration and slapped the water.

She rested her chin on her knees and let a few tears fall. She must have attracted some attention with her outburst. A delicate hand touched her back,

“Daffodil?” Ciri used the voice one might use when talking to a frightened animal, reassuring and nonthreatening.

Daffodil looked up at her, worry clear on the princess’ face,

“Are you okay?” She asked.

Daffodil shook her head, “I, your dad is gonna save mine right?”

“Of course, he’ll find Jaskier, my dad will apologize for the stupid things he said to him, they’ll be friends again and we can all travel together.” She said with a comforting smile. Ciri made it sound so easy. The idea of traveling with Geralt and Ciri as well as her father did warm Daffodil’s heart, she was an only child and it would be nice to have someone her own age to hang around. It would also, admittedly, be nice to have Geralt around as well. He made her father happy and he was kind to her,

“It's just, he’s all I have left” She frowned, “my mother didn’t even  _ try _ to stop my stepfather from disowning me. Jaskier is the only person in the world who cares about me,” she hiccuped softly, “I can’t lose him, I- I can’t go back to being alone again.” She was crying in earnest now, harsh sobs racking through her body. Ciri hugged her,

“We’re going to save him, everything will be fine.” She assured her. Something about the dead certainty in Ciri’s voice just made Daffodil believe it.

“You should get dried off before the water gets cold.” She said with a playful smile as she let go of Daffodil. Daffodil looked down at her bath, the water murky with the evidence of her past few days,

“I think you might be right.”

Ciri handed her a towel, 

“I usually am.” She smiled before skipping off to bed, or at least that’s where Daffodil  _ assumed  _ she was going. Daffodil toweled herself off behind the curtain and started getting into her nightclothes. She heard Ciri whispering. She knew it wasn’t technically polite to eavesdrop but it was an art form she and her father often practiced in the more bustling markets they would find themselves in.

“What’s gonna happen...” Daffodil couldn’t quite hear all the words, “...if Jaskier is dead?”

“She will stay with us, just like I promised,” Geralt’s gruff voice, even in a whisper carried further than Ciri’s softer one.

“We’re gonna find Jaskier in time though, right?”

There was a long pause and a deep sigh, 

“I hope so.”

Daffodil emerged from behind the privacy screen, the two of them didn’t seem to realize she had overheard them,

“I think I’m going to head to sleep now.” She laid in the bed, facing away from Geralt and Ciri, “Thank you again, for everything.” 

She made sure her tears were silent this time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Geralt with one (1) child: okay I think I can handle this  
> Second child: enters  
> Geralt: oh shit oh fuck


	4. Withering Weeds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaskier finds out the true extent of his kidnapper's plans, and he is decidedly Not a fan.

Jaskier strained to hear what his captors were discussing on the other side of the door. His wrists stinging as he pushed against his shackles. He had the sinking suspicion it was about either himself or Geralt, those were the usual hot topics as of late. Roderick, the slimy leader of the bunch walked into Jaskier’s cell,

“Good day sir bard, are you ready to tell me where the white wolf is?” He asked with a painfully polite smile.

Jaskier raised an eyebrow at him, “It’s like I told you the  _ last  _ seven times you asked, I haven’t seen Geralt in months. So even if I  _ wanted  _ to help you, which I decidedly do  _ not _ , I haven’t got anything to say to you.”

Roderick grabbed Jaskier by the chin and tilted his head up,

“We’ll see if I can get you to change your tune yet.”

Jaskier braced himself for a blow that never came. He opened an eye and Roderick was still just standing there, laughing condescendingly,

“Oh  _ puh-lease  _ dear Jaskier, I know it will take more than physical pain to get you to spill. Nooo, I was thinking more along the lines of tracking down that pretty little songbird you were traveling with, seeing what kind of sweet tunes I could coax out of  _ her _ .”

Jaskier’s stomach dropped, 

“I told you she doesn’t know anything. Please, she’s- she’s just a little girl.”

“And she gave my second in command testicular torsion, she’s grown enough,” Roderick said plainly.

Jaskier didn’t want to know what exactly Roderick wanted to do with Daffodil and would do anything in his power to make sure it did not come to pass,

“Leave my daughter out of this. She’s never even  _ met _ Geralt.” It was a lie, Daffodil had traveled with Geralt for a few months before Geralt sent Jaskier away. But it was some time ago and for such a brief time, Jaskier was sure they wouldn’t see through his words, and giving himself the luxury of feeling a bit smug about putting one over on his captors,

Roderick gave Jaskier a few light pats on the cheek,

“There see! I knew you would be helpful. This also means I won the betting pool that the girl was your kid.”

Jaskier sputtered and felt the color drain from his face, any of his previous bravado gone, “You- you didn’t already know that?”

“Oh I knew who she was, Daffodil of Olde, but there has always been a little bit of speculation about just who was Sir  _ Olde _ and now we know.” 

Jaskier felt his body shaking, guilty as he may feel for any trouble that befell Geralt on his account he knew Geralt could handle it. Daffodil, she was just a troubled young girl with a knife. Roderick pouted sarcastically,

“Oh don’t be so glum, I’m sure she’ll be on her way to find you soon enough. Then we can find out how much a bastard’s head is really worth.”

“You’re using me as bait against  _ my own daughter _ ?” He asked incredulously.

“Oh please don’t be so self-centered, we are still after Geralt as well. Besides her other father is willing to part with a fair bit of coin for your little girl’s golden head.”

“You would kill a girl for some coin?” Jaskier wished he could be surprised, but after so long on the road no amount of human depravity could surprise him anymore.

“Well I may not have to, her mother has a reward for her return.” Roderick winked, “I’m gonna see which one gives more for the cause.”

“You’re sick.”

Roderick turned his back to the shackled bard and sauntered towards the door, “Who knows, maybe after all this is over I can retire somewhere quiet, maybe along the coast.” He mused as he shut the heavy wood door behind him, leaving Jaskier alone with his thoughts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im finally giving yall Jask rights!  
> I'm so happy how many people are liking this fic! I'm glad you all like my roadtrip ft. baby girls fic lol  
> I'm off to play witcher 2 now have fun yall


	5. Meadowlarks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A glimpse back when Geralt traveled with both Daffodil and Jaskier

“Try it again Daffodil, now remember not to watch your opponent’s eyes this time. They’ll lie every time.” He tapped his solar plexus with his pointer and middle fingers, “The chest won’t be able to fool you about what they’re doing next.”

“Right.” Daffodil nodded, determination set on her face as she got back to her feet. Geralt handed her the dagger he’d taken from her,

“You’re getting better, Songbird.”

Daffodil beamed at that, “Thanks, I’ve got a pretty okay teacher.”

“Hm, just okay?”

Daffodil smiled, “Yeah, his sense of humor could use a little work.”

Geralt scoffed fondly, “You sure are your father’s daughter.”

She pouted, “You take that back!” waving her dagger at him for emphasis.

“Why don’t you show me you’re a better fighter than your dad?”

“Oh come on at least give me a challenge Geralt!”

Ah, even more proof of her lineage. While Geralt would admit she had taken to fighting faster than her father had he had also been trained in the noble ways of the rapier which didn’t translate well to the kind of grappling and dagger work that Daffodil gravitated towards.

Daffodil grunted as she fell to the ground. Geralt felt his vision blurring as he stared down at the girl, so mortal so fucking fragile. She was so young, her father was a young man as well but Geralt would likely outlive both of them. Hell the odds of him having something to do with their deaths increased with each hour they spent in his company. Images of bloodied and broken bards flooded his vision.

“Geralt? Geralt?” Daffodil waved her hands in front of the Witcher’s face,

“You’re getting better at falling.” Geralt said,

“Now, what’s the first thing we do when someone goes to choke us?” Geralt asked, his hands hovering over the girl’s throat.

“Tuck your chin to protect your windpipe!” She chirped as she did exactly that.

“Very good.” He wrapped his hands around her throat, careful not to actually put pressure on her neck. He lifted her into the air,

“And what do we do now?” He asked, feeling her steady pulse through his gloves. Gods with barely a squeeze of his hands he could crush her neck. This was why he was teaching her in the first place, humans are fragile enough, especially when they’re so young. He will not let any harm come to this girl while he could prevent it. Daffodil snapped Geralt out of his mental spiral by wrapping her hands around his wrists.

“I grab your hands, to give myself a little breathing room” She winked, “get it?”

“Awful, continue.” Geralt shook his head fondly.

“Since you’re wearing gloves I’m not gonna bite, but I can definitely kick you from here!” She thrashed her legs about to demonstrate, “Do you want me to kick you?” She asked softly.

“Do your best.”

Geralt seemed to forget that Jaskier’s daughter was mostly leg, he quickly remembered when she kicked him in the nose. He dropped her to the ground, holding his nose with one hand.

“Shit, did I hurt you dad?”

They both paused at Daffodil’s words, Geralt was grateful that he was at least holding his nose so she couldn’t see his face too well. Daffodil looked shocked and a little bit ashamed with herself, she wilted and looked at her feet,

“Don’t tell Jaskier I called you that. It’ll make him sad.”

Geralt screwed his eyes shut, “Don’t worry about it kid.”

* * *

While the two of them were practicing Jaskier slipped away to the nearby town. As far as Daffodil was concerned he was just doing a normal supply run. What she didn’t know was that her father had seen how taken she was with dagger fighting and bought a present for her. 

The blacksmith had looked a fair bit shocked when he heard what Jaskier wanted him to make, but a pouch of coins erased any questions from the man’s mind. Geralt and Jaskier had done a pretty good job keeping Daffodil in the dark about their surprise for her to their credit. Jaskier entered the forge, hot air enveloping him nearly instantly.

“Oh, music man!” The blacksmith turned over his shoulder to see the bard, “Got your commission all done, just give me a moment with this.” He banged his hammer onto some molten metal to accentuate his point,

“Oh yes you uh, don’t let me distract you!” Jaskier said.

Sometime later the blacksmith has put aside whatever he was working on and brought out the dagger. It was even more beautiful than Jaskier had imagined. The silver gleamed brilliantly and the sapphire in the pommel was just the right counterweight.

“Gotta say, it’s possibly the prettiest thing I’ve ever made.”

“It’s, it’s perfect thank you so much.” He traced his fingers on the engravings on the guard, if he hadn’t known they were recycled from an abandoned project he would never have guessed. It was functional and beautiful, just the kind of thing Daffodil would love.

“Hope she likes it.” The blacksmith smiled at him.

“I think she will.” Jaskier said as he sheathed the dagger, “Again, thank you for doing this.”

The blacksmith waved him off, “It’s no trouble, you come back anytime you want okay?”

Jaskier nodded as he left, wanting to give Daffodil her present as soon as he could. He headed out of the village, managing to avoid any unnecessary drama that might’ve slowed his return. He approached the encampment at a casual pace. He could see Daffodil’s vibrant clothes through the brush. Her chirping laughter mixing with Geralt’s gruff one. He came a bit closer, curious what those two were up to. 

Geralt ruffled Daffodil’s hair and Jaskier was sure he had never been more in love with the man than he was at that moment. Jaskier made his way into the clearing,

“I’m back! I hope you two didn’t get into too much trouble without me?”

Geralt rolled his eyes, “I think your daughter broke my nose but no, we somehow survived on our own.”

“Daffodil, perhaps you should be the Witcher and Geralt could sing of your battle prowess!” He laughed as he sat beside the two of them.

“I can’t take both of your jobs, how will you two eat?” Daffodil stuck her tongue out.

“Pfft, well since you’re such a renaissance woman I suppose you don’t need the surprise I got you.” Jaskier smiled and crossed his arms across his chest,

“There’s always room for improvement?” Daffodil batted her eyelashes at her dad, “Please?”

Jaskier opened his bag and pulled out the dagger still in its sheath,

“This is for you.” He put it in her outstretched hands. It fit her well, Jaskier was relieved, it really would have been just his luck to get his daughter a dagger she couldn’t actually wield. Her blue eyes were transfixed on the weapon in her hands. She pulled it out of its sheath slowly, her mouth agape,

“This is, this is really mine?” She asked.

“Custom made, consider it a very early birthday present...or a very late one, please tell me your birthday one of these days.” Jaskier asked.

“Yeah yeah sure, Dad.” Daffodil still hadn’t taken her eyes off the blade. Jaskier gasped a little bit, in the time he and Daffodil had been together she hadn’t called him dad or anything beside his name before. He had been unsure of his capabilities as a parent when they first met in that tavern. But the pride swelling in his chest at seeing her elation and hearing her call him her father was all the assurance he needed that this was exactly what he was supposed to be doing, exactly where he was supposed to be. 

Daffodil hugged Jaskier tightly,

“I love it.”

Jaskier hugged her back, mouthing a “thank you” to Geralt, who gave him a simple nod in reply.

“And I love you, little Songbird.”

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> UwU gotta love a soft flashback right?

**Author's Note:**

> Am I writing a fic where one of the main characters is the non-canon child of a canon character? you bet your sweet ass I am!  
> Daffodil is my child and I hope you all like her as much as I've liked writing her  
> My tumblr is alinnsurana if u want to talk to me  
> shoutout to the witcher discord for all the encouragement and Jaskling headcanon talk!


End file.
